The cottage is simply known as ‘the cottage’. Synonymous with good friends and food and laughter and drinks and good times. It’s a term that oozes some warm and fuzziness from the inner depths of my heart, due to some warm and fuzzy memories there over the last 10 years, both questionable and wonderful, all a part of coming of age. It’s something I look forward to all year round. Because it’s a chance to just BE. With a group of people where you can totally and unabashedly just be… yourself.
There’s something to be said for having a core group of people as friends, a clique if you will, and for 10+ years at that. Whoever said cliques are such a bad thing anyway? It’s amazing to be part of an exclusive group (though were not entirely so exclusive, many individuals have come and gone over the years, and some come again). But it’s an amazing thing to be a part of. It’s amazing to be part of something lasting. There’s ebbs and flows of relationships within the whole, closeness and not so closeness at different times in our collective existences and the subsets of relationships. But that’s life. The difference is that while things grow and change and evolve (while we’ve all grown and changed and evolved), we all know where we came from and we all know where we’re going. The group is what ties us all together, binds us forevermore. And the symbolic heart of our group is the cottage. When we go to the cottage, we go home again.
Last weekend was fall/winter installment for 2011 and I’m filled with cottage goodness, though I was only there for one night. But a lot of memories can be made in even just one night.
A lil trip down memory lane:
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